


One Tough Young Lady

by TeddyTheCat



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Caring Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Elementary School, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Jack, Mentioned Hostage Situation, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyTheCat/pseuds/TeddyTheCat
Summary: When Jack is injured, Mac has to leave him behind to bring a class of grade schoolers to safety.





	One Tough Young Lady

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt to write an OC. I'm very curious how you like her... (and the rest of the story, too)

_ **An elementary school in a small town, somewhere in the endless solitude of the state of Minnesota** _

** _The two most exciting things the local police ever had to deal with was the robbery of the only gas station in town and the highly suspicious death of an old and grumpy retiree, who later turned out to have been poisoned by his wife._ **

** _Today's events will be front-page news for weeks to come._ **

_One of the occupational hazards in this line of work, aside from regularly getting shot at, kidnapped, tied up, tortured, beaten (etc. pp… you know, the usual), is that you can’t really avoid making a lot more than your fair share of enemies. Sometimes, their grudges last longer than an agent's career, as a former colleague has just learned the hard way._

_Kyle Gordon used to be a DXS field-agent until a couple of years ago, when his last mission went belly-up to a degree that left him with a prosthesis for a foot and forced him to retire. His family, Jessica and 7-year-old Hannah, had just started to feel accustomed to an entirely new life, when disaster struck once again..._

Mac and Jack were running through the empty hallways of the school.

"Wasn't this a tad bit over the top?" Jack asked his blonde partner over the comm in his ear. They were escorting a group of second-graders along a hopefully safe route out of the building. Mac was leading the way, remotely assisted by Riley, who had eyes and ears in the building, and Jack was bringing up the rear.

"What?"

"I mean, kidnapping a class of 22 kids just to grab one girl. It's like breaking a butterfly on a wheel, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I'm shocked," Mac agreed sarcastically, "as it was a big surprise for these gentlemen to suddenly drop their, uhm, _infamous subtlety_ and pull out the big g---"

“Mac! Jack! Look out," Riley's voice in their ears warned, "One of them has slipped through and is coming your way from behind!"

Jack spun around and raised his gun, while Mac made the children run around the next corner for cover and stay down.

Jack faced their pursuer and fired, but so did the other man. The kidnapper crumpled to the floor, dead within seconds, with a bullet through his heart.

Jack's left left leg exploded with white-hot pain and he staggered against the wall. He tried to remain standing, despite the fact that a bullet had just pierced his thigh. However, the injured leg fiercely objected to bearing any weight at all and he slid down the wall with a pained grunt.

_OUCH!!_

His vision went blurry around the edges, as he sat on the ground with his back leaned against the wall and tried to get his rapid breathing under control.

“JACK,” Mac screamed in horror when he looked back and saw that his partner was down. Gesturing at the children to stay where they were, he hurried back and knelt next to him. Jack winced in pain and gritted his teeth.

“Go, Bud! Get those kids to safety,” he hissed. His young partner shook his head fervently.

“I’m not leaving you,” he started to protest, but Jack cut him off.

“You’ve got to! I’m winning no races on this leg, but I’ll hold out on my own until you come back. _They _won’t!” With that, Jack pointed in the direction where the huddled group of terrified grade schoolers was taking cover. Mac squeezed his eyes shut and ran a distraught hand through his hair, thinking hard for about two seconds. Then, he looked back and forth between Jack’s bleeding wound, his pale face and the children. It was very obvious that he didn’t like either option, but grudgingly, he agreed.

“Alright, but you can't stay out here in the open. You'll hide until I come back and get you! We haven't gotten the all clear yet. Some of those scumbags might still be running around somewhere.”

Jack gasped in surprise and pain, when the lean blonde grabbed him below the arms and dragged him the short distance into a nearby janitor’s room. Mac hid his friend provisionally behind a stack of large cardboard-boxes. He threw the freely bleeding injury another worried glance. “I need to patch that up,” he began, but Jack cut him off once more.

“The kids,” he reminded him, “get them to exfil! I’ll be fine ‘till you come back. Go now!”

Mac clearly didn’t like anything about this, but he had to admit that his partner did have a point. Getting the children out was the foremost target of their mission, and that was what he intended to do.

He still didn’t like leaving an injured Jack behind.

Giving the supply room a quick check, he spotted a box of clean paper towels on one of the shelves. He handed it to Jack.

“Try to slow down that bleeding. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I know. Thanks, pal! Go now,” urged Jack. Very reluctantly, Mac left the room and closed the door behind him. Jack let his head sink back against the shelf Mac had propped him up against and allowed himself a groan.

_Damn, no matter how often it happens, I'll never get used to getting shot!_

* * *

Jack looked around the room. It was scarcely lit by a small skylight in the middle of the ceiling, which provided him with enough daylight to see that he was bleeding a little more than he had hoped, albeit not enough to indicate damage to any major artery.

_At least a scrap of comfort..._

He laid his handgun aside and started to inspect the wound. The bullet had passed right through and Jack hoped that his hope that it hadn’t struck bone would turn out to be correct.

Sighing, he ripped the box of paper towels open and grabbed a generous stack. Just as he was folding it into a thick wad of material to press it to the freely bleeding wound, he heard a strange noise and froze. He wasn’t alone in the room.

Looking around for the source of the curious rustling, he suspected the big sack full of dirty laundry in a corner of emitting it. It apparently contained something more than just dirty textiles, as those usually weren't known for whimpers and sniffles. Not taking any risks, Jack picked up his gun and held it ready in his lap.

"I know you are in there. Show yourself," he ordered into the general direction of the sack. He got more sniffling in reply, before a very small and very scared voice met his ear.

"Are you going to shoot me?"

"What? No, of course not! Who're you?" He quickly shoved his gun out of sight.

"Please, don't hurt me!"

"I'm not gonna hurt you. Think you could come outta there?"

Jack only got a muffled sob for an answer. "Listen, kid, I promise that I won't hurt ya. In fact, I came here to get you and your classmates safely back to your families, and as soon as my friend comes back, we’re gonna get you out of here and home. How does that sound?"

The sack started to wobble, then tilted and fell, spilling its contents all over the floor. Between the towels, rags and clothes, a pair of white-blond pigtails with brightly-colored scrunchies emerged, followed by two wide and very frightened blue eyes. A girl of maybe 7 freed herself from the mess. Jack gave her his most winning smile.

"Hey, kid! That was an awesome hideout you found there. Are you okay?"

The girl hadn't found her voice yet, but she nodded shakily. Lower lip trembling, she stared first at Jack's face and then at his still profusely bleeding leg.

"You are hurt," she stated the obvious. Not wanting to scare her any more, Jack waved dismissively.

"Nah, don’t worry 'bout that. It's just a scratch."

The child eyed the wound and the floor underneath sceptically. "That looks like a pretty bad scratch." Her voice was wavering.

Jack sighed inwardly, but kept smiling. "I'll be fine. I'm Jack, by the way. What's your name?"

"Hannah."

_‘Must be Kyle’s kid’,_ Jack thought.

"Hi Hannah. Nice to meet you!" Jack extended his right hand to her, not before wiping off the worst of the blood on his pants. Hesitantly, Hannah took it.

"Hi Jack," she returned the greeting with a tremulous voice and all of a sudden, thick tears rolled down her cheeks. Jack kept her small hand in his and gently pulled her closer into a tentative embrace, which she melted into after a second of hesitation.

"Shshshshsh! It's okay, Hannah! We're getting you back home, okay? I've got you, you're gonna be okay." He kept mumbling soothing nonsense and rubbed comforting circles on the girls back, while she sobbed uncontrollably into the front of his shirt. He held her until her sobs died down.

“I’m so scared,” she finally admitted.

“That’s quite alright. You’ve had enough excitement for today, huh? But it’s over. Nobody’s gonna hurt you now.” Jack did his best to calm her and it seemed to be working, at least partially. Her sobbing had subsided into occasional hiccups and sniffles. Jack handed her one of the paper towels and she wiped her eyes, clearly fighting to get a grip on herself. “That’s my girl,” he praised, “you’re doing great!”

However, no matter how much Jack tried to play down his injury in front of Hannah, he couldn’t help realizing that he’d have to do something about it, and soon. The blood that was dripping from his leg had already formed a sizeable pool and Jack was starting to feel a little lightheaded. He knew he had to stop that bleeding now, somehow. There was no telling how long Mac would need to get the rest of the class to safety and come back. Besides, passing out in front of the little girl was high on his top-five-list of things he wanted to avoid.

Suppressing a pained groan, the agent tenderly shoved her off and sat her down beside him, where she immediately huddled against his side for warmth and comfort. He gritted his teeth and took a couple of deep, steadying breaths through his nose. Then, he ripped the fabric of his pants open to reveal the damage to his flesh. The entry wound was small and looked relatively clean, but past experiences with through-and-throughs told him, that the exit wound at the back side of his thigh wouldn’t be as neat.

That was when he noticed that Hannah had gone rigid next to him. Her panicked breaths came in harsh gasps and she was gaping at his leg and the significant amount of blood on the floor with widened eyes.

“Are-- are you going to d-die?” she asked in a terrified voice that was hardly more than a whisper. Jack’s heart clenched painfully at the innocent bluntness of the question. He hated that his condition was causing the kid even more distress.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not dying, don’t you worry,” he hurried to reassure her, “I just need to make a little bandage and my friend will come and take me to a doctor. I’ll be back up in no time!”

Hannah frowned, thinking, and then her face lit up. A sudden inspiration had hit her. She rummaged through the pockets of her blue and pink jacket. Grinning, she brought to light what looked like a little strip of paper and handed it to Jack. When he saw what it was, he had to fight tears of emotion.

It was a pink band-aid with a picture of Elsa from “Frozen” on it. Jack gulped.

“Mommy always puts them on when I scratch my knee or something. They really help. You can have it, if you want. Wait, I’ll do that for you,” she offered graciously and the ex-Delta was lost for words for a moment. Without any further ado, Hannah took the band-aid back, but her face fell, when she spotted a problem. “It’s too small,” she remarked disappointedly. Jack quickly pulled himself together.

“That’s okay, honey. Thank you!” He paused briefly and went on, “Listen, maybe you shouldn’t look at this too closely. I don’t want you to get sick on top of everything else.”

“I’m not getting sick!” she protested indignantly, shaking her head and glaring at him. Jack raised his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry! I get it. You’re one tough young lady.”

Her face lit up with pride for a split-second, only to turn back into the mirror image of the terror she was going through. Jack felt anger boil inside him. No child should ever have to experience anything like this. Maybe he could distract her a bit by asking for her help. He cleared his throat.

“Uhm, Hannah?” She looked back up and slightly wet blue eyes met his brown ones. “Do you think you could give me a hand on this? We can make our own bandaid, a little bigger than yours, you know?”

She was still terrified, but nodded eagerly. “What can I do?”

Jack handed her a stack of paper towels and showed her how to fold them.

“Like this,” he demonstrated, “and don’t touch this side. It’s just like the inside of a band-aid, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” she agreed, “Mommy tells me not to touch that, because I’d get dirt from my hands on it.”

“Your mom’s pretty smart.”

Hannah smiled proudly, finally looking a little less scared. Jack pulled his belt out of its loops and wound it loosely around his thigh twice.

He steeled himself as best as he could and raised his damaged leg just enough to shove one wad of paper under the exit wound. Then, he applied the other one on top of the entry and secured both with the belt.

_Now comes the fun part…_

He grimaced, while he tried to prepare for the excruciating pain he’d soon be in. He wanted to hide that from Hannah at all costs. He managed a smile and handed her the loose end of the belt.

“Now I need you to pull at this real hard, as hard as you can. Brace your feet against me and pull with all the strength you’ve got!” He indicated a spot at his hip and one right above his knee. She stared at him in pure horror.

“But-- but-- won’t that h-hurt?” she stammered, appalled by the mere idea.

“Nah, it’ll just sting a little,” Jack lied, “but it needs to be done. I’ll be fine, okay? Can you do that for me?” Jack hated lying to the kid and having to do this to her, but he didn’t know how to apply the necessary force to tighten the belt enough to stop the bleeding all by himself. He started to feel tired and -- well -- _drained_. He knew that he probably didn’t have much longer before slipping into shock. The sooner he stopped any further blood loss, the better.

He secretly grabbed a rag from the laundry, sniffed it and, when he was certain that it wasn’t soaked with anything poisonous, rolled it up and put it between his teeth.

_Whatever you do, Dalton, don’t scream! You’ll traumatize her even more!_

“You ready?” he asked the girl, wriggling his eyebrows as if he was inviting her to a funny game. She nodded hesitantly, grabbed the belt and put her feet where Jack had pointed. He inhaled. “Alright. GO!”

Hannah pulled with everything she had and Jack squashed the rag between his teeth. He managed not to scream when his leg exploded in agony; only a soft moan escaped through his nose. He felt the cool and tingly sensation of the blood draining from his face and greyish spots danced into his vision. He fought to stay conscious and groped for the belt to secure it in place, because his vision was too compromised to see what his hands were doing. He was dimly aware of Hannah’s terrified squeak and meant to tell her that he was alright and that she did good, but his mouth was too full of smelly rag to emit any coherent sound. The room around him greyed out and he felt himself tilt sideways and slump to the floor.

* * *

Herding 22 terrified children (uhm, no, 21, as one girl was missing, to make matters even worse) through a piece of woodland to a clearing where the exfil chopper was waiting for them had taken Mac considerably longer than he had anticipated. By the time he was on his way back to the school, he was worried sick; about the missing kid, as well as about Jack. Nothing short of the lives of a class full of 7 and 8-year-olds on the line could have brought him to leave his injured partner behind. Jack had insisted that he’d be fine (of course he had!), and Mac couldn’t possibly have left the little ones to their fates, but that didn’t change the fact that burning guilt had taken residence inside his stomach. It felt like a huge clump of lead.

He dashed back into the building at top speed and quickly found the janitor’s room where he'd so haphazardly hidden his partner.

"Jack? It's me," he announced his presence after he’d opened the door. When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he had to fight down a sudden surge of panic. Was he too late?

He rushed into the room and found Jack lying on his side on the floor, amidst a mess of dirty towels, rags, mops, work clothes and… blood. A lot of blood.

"Jack!" he shouted out and knelt down to check on him. To his utter relief, his pulse and breathing were both a bit fast, but strong and regular. The bleeding had mostly stopped. The older man was pale, shocky and in a great deal of pain, though. Just as Mac took a moment to marvel on the fine compression bandage and wondered how he’d managed to tighten it like that from his angle, he heard a teary voice that most definitely wasn't Jack's.

"It's a-a-ll my fault," someone cried and Mac was certain that he'd just found the lost girl.

"Hannah? Is that you?" he asked.

"It's my f-fault," she repeated, hiccupping, "I k-k-killed him!"

Puzzled about what on earth had given her _that _idea, Mac tried to soothe her.

"No, no, no, sweetie, no! You didn't! Look, he's alive, he’s gonna be fine! He's just knocked out a little." He gently shook Jack’s shoulder and the older man stirred and groaned. “Hey, Jack, time to wake up! You scared the living daylight out of this nice young lady!”

"Do I have to go to jail now?" she asked in such a dull and defeated voice, that Mac had to swallow down a lump in his throat.

“Definitely not! Hey, honey, whatever happened is not your fault, I promise!”

Finally, Jack managed to raise his head and Mac helped him sit up and lean against the shelf again. “Hannah? Where are you? You okay?” he asked worriedly.

With an ear-splitting screech of “JACK!”, a whirlwind of pink, blue and blond came storming out from under the now mostly empty laundry sack. She flung herself into Jack’s open arms and buried her face in his shirt. Jack held her, stroking her back and whispering reassurances into her ear, until she calmed down.

In the meantime, Mac contacted Matty with a sitrep and she arranged for a medical team to pick up Jack, as soon as they got the green light from the TAC team that was raiding the school building for any remaining kidnappers. As soon as he’d tapped his comm to close the line to the War Room, he crouched down next to Jack and Hannah.

“How’re you feeling, Jack,” he asked his partner and Jack shifted Hannah into a slightly less uncomfortable position on his good thigh, so they were both facing Mac. He was still pale, but he grinned.

“Good, I’m good,” he replied distractedly, “Mac? I want you to meet Hannah. She saved my life!” He winked mischievously at his friend and Mac winked back. Hannah blushed crimson and looked away.

“Didn’t,” she mumbled, deeply embarrassed, but Jack was having none of that.

“You bet she did!”

“Well, in that case,” Mac declared solemnly, “I’ll be forever in your debt for saving my best friend!”

_ **The end** _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the aprupt ending, but somehow I wanted to leave it at that.  
Of course they make it all home safely and Jack's gonna be fine. :)


End file.
